


Summertime Records

by ChaoticMind (ChloeCasey)



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Depression, Dipper is quite messed up, Hallucinations, Lots of mysteries in this, M/M, Mabel tries to help him, Psychological Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-23
Updated: 2017-06-23
Packaged: 2018-11-18 06:50:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11285925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChloeCasey/pseuds/ChaoticMind
Summary: Dipper Pines is a tad different then everyone. He had problems, more specifically, with his head, ones that practically anchored him to his home and isolated himself from practically everyone besides his sister. His parents acted like he was a ticking time bomb, and people were either downright vicious or wary of his mental state.He was growing sick of it, and he found himself more and more desperate to make it stop. But how could he when his mind was littered with holes in his memory, ones he can't even comprehend or explain?





	Summertime Records

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone, glad to see you're enjoying my fanfictions! I've decided to start a new one, and it's gonna be good. Just you wait.
> 
> Would love some comments to let me know how much you love the story!

The blaring alarm clock did it's job in waking Dipper up rather abruptly, his tired eyes snapping open in slight shock as his body jerks, only to lower in seething contempt, rolling over and using the pillow to cover his ears, groaning loudly. Making children get up at 6 AM for school had to be a federal crime, especially in the colder seasons. But, he made a promise to Mabel, and he had to keep his word; she'll swap the sugar he used for coffee with salt otherwise. With a sigh, he slams his hand down on the alarm, silencing the ear piercing scream, and proceeds to fling the still warm covers off of his body, slowly, begrudgingly, climbing out of bed.

He flicks the switch to turn on the main overhead light, revealing his bedroom, with movie poster walls, shelves littered with books, and a few DS games here and there. He sighs, rubbing an eye as he takes out his clothes, quickly getting dressed. He glances into a mirror, eyeing the darkness under his eyes with slight distaste; they had always been there, as far as he could remember. Something about his early insomnia. Whatever.

After brushing his hair and teeth, he takes care to make sure his bangs are covering his mark, and he walks downstairs, letting his face form a rather empty, fake smile. His parents always got concerned if his face seemed too glum or grumpy, which he always was in the morning, so he tried not to worry them. As he passes his father, he snatches a mug of coffee from the maker, taking a sip of it even as its still scorching. "Morning, Dad."

The man grins gently, looking up from behind his newspaper. "Good morning, Dipper." He returns to the paper, flipping the page. "Did you hear Mabel moving upstairs?"

"I think so. If not, I'll just grab the megaphone again; she can't miss another school bus." Dipper shrugs, preparing a bowl of cereal, his smile already threatening to drop down. School; just the thought wanted to make him crawl back to his bed and never come out. He hated it almost as much as he hated this town.

As he takes his first spoonful of cereal, Mabel hurries down the stairs and into the kitchen. She grins widely at her father. "Good morning."

Their dad chuckles, ruffling her hair playfully. "Morning, sweetie. Sprinkles and glitter are sitting on the table."

"Thanks, Dad." Her grin widens and she hurries to her seat at the table. "Morning, Dipper."

His smile became a bit more sincere, and he chuckles. "Morning. Excited for something?"

"Definitely!" Several stars filled her eyes. "I can't wait for art class! It begins today and they've specialized it for both physical and digital crafts! The only thing that could make it better is if you were there." She punches his arm playfully.

Dipper chuckles, rubbing at the punched area, which hurt more then it should've. "Nah, I don't think I can do all of that. Math is probably my main class."

"Yeah, but you're pretty good at sketching." She liberally peppers her cereal with sprinkles and glitter before taking a spoonful into her mouth.

"Heh..Yeah." He glances up, his fake smile dropping finally when he saw his mother checking the calendar attached to the fridge. Judging by the red marker, he was supposed to go visit his new therapist today. Shit.  
He holds back a heavy sigh, taking in a sloppy spoonful of soggy cereal.

Mabel notices his gaze, brows furrowing for a moment. She quickly finishes her bowl and stands, walking over to Dipper and hugging him. "Don't worry, Bro-Bro. You got this."

Dipper blinks, somewhat snapped out of his haze by his sister's hug, and smiles softly, hugging back as best he can. "..Yeah, thanks." He hated going to that place, with every fiber of his being. But if Mabel wants him to go, he will.

She pulls back slightly, grinning widely. "Gotta go now. You sure you'll be good?"

"Yeah. I'll be fine." He nods, grinning back, though its not as wide or sincere. He always hated it when she had to leave; it meant that he had to be watched by his parents. She hugs him tightly, nearly crushing the wind out of him, before quickly hugging her parents and darting out of the house. The room quickly goes quiet with her absence.

Dipper sighs softly, watching silently as his mother reaches into a cabinet and pulls out a pill bottle, obviously prescription. She pulls out two white pills, and places them on the table, giving him a pleading look. "Come on, honey, you don't want an accident to happen, right?"

"Of course I don't." He shrinks at the look, but still hesitates to grab the pills. Another glance at her, though, makes him take them with his glass of milk. The feeling of the solids passing down his throat nearly makes his throat clench to expell them, but he fights the urge and swallows successfully.

His mother almost seems to relax, turning back around to collect her own things. "I'll be back to pick you up around 4. Please finish your classes by then."

"Okay." He pushes a few bits of cereal around in his bowl, nodding. The mother nods in approval, walking out of the room. His father just shifts a bit, eyes darting around, as if visibly uncomfortable. Dipper bites his lip, then brings his dish to the sink and rinses it out. "I'll, um, I'll be upstairs. Working."

"Right. Yeah." The father sputters out quickly, walking out of the kitchen. The boy watches, thoroughly unimpressed. Sure, he had issues. But that didn't warrant walking on eggshells around him. Or staring at him like he's a literal bomb. He leans his forehead against the counter and takes a deep breath.

...Whatever. It was best to just go along with it anyway; they constantly watched him like a hawk, so there was no way he could refuse taking those pills, even if the side effects were terrible. Maybe he should tell his doctor about that.  
He sighs again, standing up to walk back upstairs to his room. He idly rubbed at his throat, debating if it was too late to try and puke them back up. It probably wasn't, but his parents would probably hear. He couldn't be entirely certain about what his doctor might ask. Maybe they'll take a blood sample to test.

Dipper takes a moment to massage his temples, feeling a headache start to come in. Why did he have to have these problems? Why did they even have to develop? He vaguely remembered waking in his room and finding Mabel sitting next to him. She had been rather worried and immediately asked if he remembered anything. He was confused, immediately recounting their previous day of lazying around the house, and had watched as she had started crying. It hadn't been the right answer.

He doesn't know when these odd lapses of memory started, but he knows its always followed by...something. Some sort of hallucination made up of abstract concepts he can never pull together, and never fully grasp. Mabel was the first one to witness them, so she was the first one to try and prevent them from happening again. He sits down heavily in the chair in his room, leaning back for a moment to sink into the plush cushions. Thinking about all of that is dangerous. He should probably get started on schoolwork.

Dipper sighs after a moment, turning on his computer, the cereal sitting as a cold lump in his stomach. In hindsight, it was probably a bad idea to try and go to a public school at first; he wasn't on any medication yet, and he still had no idea what any of his...issues were. Now, he's stuck with online classes, almost always staying at home. He runs a hand through his hair, pulling a notebook and pen toward himself and opening his new school's app.

Time seems to go by extremely slowly today. Maybe it was the fact he finished classes early, maybe it was the fact his dad left and now no one was in the house. By now, he was starting to feel the side effects of his pills, and he found himself slumped over on the floor, eyes dim, half-lidded, almost glassy. His muscles tingled, burning with a numbness that seemed to sap energy away from his body rather then give it back, his heart seemed to ache with every beat, and his mind was utterly blank, devoid of thought. This is why he hated taking those pills. He manages to push himself into a sitting position leaning against his bed and leans his head back. A garbled, muted groan escapes him, and his stomach grumbles.

He glances at the clock, only to grimace, seeing it was about an hour before 4. He had to go see his therapist soon. He should probably get ready. Is he wearing presentable clothes?

He looks down, seeing its the regular attire he always wears. Vests, shorts, red t-shirt. Eh. Good enough. He leans his head back again. After another hour of being in a nigh unresponsive state, Dipper faintly hears a car horn from downstairs. He sighs, and slowly gets up, pocketing his phone and grabbing his sketchbook.

Somehow hobbling down the stairs, he hears the front door open. He tries his best to smile, rubbing the dull, lifeless look out of his eyes. He glances up at his mother, resisting the urge to sigh. "I'm ready..."

"That's good. How was your day?" She grins, looking a little tired as she sets her purse down.

"Fine..Finished all my classes and everything." He shifts from foot to foot, a bit uneasy.

"Nervous?" She puts a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"...A bit. You know I'm not good talking to people." He shrugs softly.

"Don't worry. You'll probably just be answering a few questions. And if you're nervous, just talk about that."

Dipper slowly nods, if anything just so he can get this whole session done and over with. He clutches his sketchbook to his chest, idly thumbing the pages. His mother frowns in concern. "Okay, why don't you get in the car? I just need to brush my teeth real quick, and we'll get going."

Dipper nods, and walks out of the door, heading toward the car. He checks around quickly, making sure no one is around before ducking inside and locking the door. He didn't want any kind of trouble today, not when he was so drained due to the pills. He fiddles with his sketchbook and glances around the neighborhood. It had been awhile since he'd been outside on his own. Usually Mabel would accompany him, or he'd be told to stay within the bounds of their yard. He caught sight of the nearby forest, frowning slightly. All the time he spent there in the last few years, all the weird places he documented...

He furrows his brow, his mind suddenly drawing up blanks, and sighs. For some reason, he was never that good with memories. Facts, numbers, and other stuff he excelled at, but when it came to past experiences...Things got dicey. He could distinctly recognize he was at some place or doing something, but never actually visualize in his head what was happening. It was like peering through a blurry lens, and it was beyond frustrating. Maybe he could tell the psychologist about it when they get there. Though, it would help if his mom wasn't in the same room. He wasn't entirely sure how these things worked.

He scratches at his arm idly, so deep in thought he doesn't notice his mother walking to the car until she opens the driver's door and slips inside. He flinches slightly, not expecting the sudden sound and movement. She blinks at him, stilling for a moment before closing the door and putting the keys in the ignition. "Are you alright, honey?"

"Yeah, just...You startled me a bit." He blushes out of embarrassment, looking away.

Her small frown curls into a gentle smile as she starts the car and pulls out of the driveway. "Lost in thought again?"

"Yeah." He twiddles his thumbs, not really in the mood to talk, though he couldn't tell her that; it would just make her even more worried.

"How were your classes?"

"Fine. Kind of easy today." He shrugs.

"Anything new?"

"No, just going over mathematics."

"Ah." She nods, then goes silent for a moment. "So, uh, how was everything else? Did you get to rest at all?"

"..Yeah, I...took a nap." That would be true if naps meant laying on the floor for several hours because all the energy has been siphoned out of his body.

His mom doesn't notice the hesitation. "That's good. How long?"

"Uhh...3 hours?" He scratches at his arm again.

"Good. You've been sleeping a lot recently."

Dipper blinks, a bit confused. Has he? Honestly, he usually just goes until he crashes, and that usually took a while. "Uhh...Yeah."

She shrugs after a moment. "It's probably just your body growing. Nothing to be worried about."

Dipper sighs a bit and nods, fists clenching slightly as they near the hospital building. He had never been here before, and he couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. Something about this place felt...off. It could have been the lack of grass and trees, the surrounding metropolis of buildings, or the unseeing windows, but he thought it was something else. Something he couldn't quite identify. But what could he know? The car slows to a stop in front of glass doors plastered with childish images of positivity "We're here."

Dipper could feel his empty stomach roil in distaste, and he bites his lip, legs trembling as he slowly steps out of the car. Best to just get this over with as much as he could.


End file.
